She is like the sand
blown, shifted
across the breeze
forever a hand away
from your grasp

She is the woman Artemis
the Isis of your desires
the Diana you see
in your dreams

and for her you try
to run a little faster

[Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poems just outside Cleveland, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Chiron Review, Three Drops from a Cauldron, and Folk Horror Revival: Corpse Roads, among others.]